I taught two boys language arts and Latin twice a week in a small co-op school setting. As the first day was entertaining, I chronicled it here for fun.

THE CHAIR IN THE ROOM

Upon entering the room, on my very first day, I discovered that the study table and the four bright orange chairs surrounding it were much too small for me. Looking at the boys, I asked, more from amusement than anything else, "Boys, do you think I'm going to fit into these chairs and isn't this table too small for me?"

They both agreed that I would not and yes, it was. 

We discussed Alice in Wonderland and how I might need a potion to shrink a little. Short of this and to put their minds to work, I asked them to help me solve the problem. 

They enthusiastically decided they needed to find a larger chair for me. Two minutes later they returned proudly with a white chair, which they put down beside the orange chair only to discover that it was, in fact, smaller.

Both boys were looking rather disappointed, so I decided to give their chair a try so they wouldn’t feel that their efforts were in vain.

      "You know, I think this one actually fits fine," I chirped as both their faces lit up again. 

It wasn't an untruth. It was more comfortable than the orange chair, and overlooking the remaining problem of the very tiny table, I was perfectly content with their answer to my problem. 

THE RHYME INSPIRED DRAWINGS

 About halfway through the morning, I decided to read some Edward Lear rhymes to them.

Giving the boys some drawing paper and colored pencils to keep their hands occupied, I read while they discovered some clever rhymes about ladies who grew their noses into points and used them to play their harps with.

There were also old men whose beards were nests for local animals, and other men whose shoes creaked while they walked. 

Afterward, I looked at their drawings, both drawn with much intensity and detail, and they each took turns telling me the stories that accompanied them. 

THE POLITICAL INCORRECTNESS OF BOYS

One child had drawn a picture of a battlefield and a plane flying in about to drop a bomb on people, and the other had drawn a battlefield with more tanks and more bombs, which in public school would be considered politically incorrect behavior for boys today.

Thank God these boys are not in public school, I said to myself, because they would have been reported to the school’s social worker for the subject of their drawings.

In my classroom, however, it was just boys being boys so rather than be alarmed, I was intrigued by the intricacies of the stories they told and delighted by the passion with which they shared them.

In our little schoolroom, there was no danger of their being reported for doing things boys have always done. I did ponder over the drawings though. Bombs?

OXYGEN-DEFICIENT BRAINS

 The funniest moment came after I mentioned that they needed to run around outside and play a lot for their brains to grow properly.

About an hour into the morning, one of the boys started fidgeting all over the place and could barely sit still.

 "Ok, you both need to get up and run around the yard once and then come back straight away!" I proclaimed.

They thought that was just about the funniest thing they had ever heard.  Laughing, they both ran off, completed their circles, and returned to the classroom able to sit still again.

 "Do you know why I had you do that?" I asked. 

"So our brains would grow?" the more fidgety of the two replied.

We all laughed. It was a logical answer, so I left it at that. 

The highlight of the day, for me, was when one of the boys commented on how they had been playing all morning.

WHEN WORK IS PLAY

Actually, they hadn't been. They'd been working hard at writing, memorizing, listening, reading, and even elocution. 

But, it felt like play to them and that tickled me pink. 

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